Something in This Bookstore Knew EXACTLY How I Would Die

Want to hear brand new horror stories brought to life? Live? Join me every Sunday at 7pm Eastern Time on the Doctor No Sleep Podcast YouTube channel, where I narrate fresh, never-before-heard stories in real time. Just search Doctor No Sleep Podcast on YouTube, and make sure you're subscribed with notifications on so you don't miss it. Doctor No Sleep. I couldn't help but stop and stare at the window of the small bookstore. As I was positive, it hadn't been there before. The trip from my apartment to the convenience store I worked at was one I had taken hundreds, if not thousands, of times before. And yet here was a little store between the Chinese restaurant and the dry cleaner that always managed to burn the suits I used for interviews. When I tried to picture what had been there before, I only remembered the kind of dark alleyway you glance at once, and then stride past quickly without a thought. But there was definitely a store, and it was as if it had been always there. I stepped closer to the dusty window display and tried to see inside, but it was difficult to make out anything through the hazy glass. It was dimly lit inside, with shelves standing like ships in the fog. After stepping back, I glanced at the door and raised an eyebrow at the open sign hanging from it. It was much too late for such a small store to be open, and yet the sign said otherwise. Still, I wasn't in a hurry to get home, as I knew Maggie wanted to have what she called a serious talk. And so wasting some time was an attractive prospect. Also, something about the store was simply inviting, as if I had to see it for myself. I grasped the door handle, and there was a dull clank as it swung open and triggered the little bell above the door. As soon as it was open, a wave of musty stale air washed out toward me, making me grimace. It had a thin, acrid scent that I would expect in an old tomb, not a bookstore. Secondhand bookstores usually had a comforting smell of old pages and leather. But this was something different and vaguely nauseating. Even so, some kind of unspoken social etiquette meant I needed to at least look inside after opening the door, just in case a worker saw me. So I stepped in, and the door shut behind me. The noise of the street was suddenly gone completely, and the silence was punctuated by the incessant buzzing of the dim, sickly yellow fluorescent lights above me, along with the faint, barely perceptible hissing sound, like gas escaping a canister coming from somewhere. The store was a bit bigger than it had seemed on the outside, with four shelves absolutely stuffed with books of all shapes and sizes, and more shelves nailed to the plain walls. Not that it was easy to see them, as the lights above barely illuminated anything, making it necessary for me to use the flashlight on my phone to make my way around. I slowly got used to the smell as I walked along the first bookshelf, but I didn't see any text on the spines of the books that were making the shelves buckle under their weight. They were all old, hardcover tomes arranged haphazardly, and it didn't seem likely that there would be any books from after the 20th century featured there. It was hot and stale inside, but not in a cozy way, and I decided to at least check out the next row before leaving, as it would lead me in the direction of the door anyway. I turned the corner of the shelf and let out a sharp breath as my flashlight briefly washed over the face of a gauntman sitting behind a desk. Oh, uh, sorry. Hi. I was so excited, I tried to make out the details of his face. He was mostly in shadow, but the silent headlights of a car outside crawled past him, showing me his angular features and a thin smile that was soon lost in the inky blackness again. Even when he was in shadow, his bright blue eyes twinkled like diamonds, and I didn't like how his gaze bored into me. The man spoke in a gravelly baritone that had no warmth or life to it. The words came out flatly and without emotion in a way that seemed almost rehearsed. There's something for you here. He said. My legs shook beneath me, and I swallowed at nothing. Oh, uh, great. Thanks. I said with a dry tongue, not sure how to respond to such an odd statement. Guess I'll... Guess I'll just browse. His eyes slowly drifted up and then down as the man nodded, and I willed my leaden legs to carry me forward. I walked between the next two bookshelves, still aware of the man's gaze burning into my back, and I quickened my pace as I pretended to look at the spines. I was just eager to get to the door. Even a fight with Maggie would be preferable to the man leering at me from the darkness. Even though I wasn't paying attention to the books, I stopped moving as the light of my phone washed over a bright red spine that stood out from the rest. What really caught my eye was that the word Travis was emblazoned in gold lettering on it. Not only was it the only spine with text, but it was also my name. Something compelled me to pinch the spine and slowly pulled it out from between the other books as my heart beat painfully hard in my chest. It was heavy and cold in my hands, and the buzzing of the light above grew louder until it rattled my skull. Slowly, I opened the cover, and a cloud of bitter dust poofed into my face, making me cough and splutter. Suddenly, the book got warm in my hands, and some strange, brief images flashed through my mind. I shook off the uncomfortable sensation, and I swung the flashlight at the desk at the back, but the man was no longer sitting there. My head pounded with the beginning of a migraine as I brushed my trembling fingers across the first page, leaving little trails in the dust. The buzzing of the lights faded into a constant whispering, and my vision swam as I read the text. It was describing a day that I didn't remember happening, but seemed so typical that it could be a diary entry. First, I woke up to have some breakfast, then I went to work. My fingers turned the pages as I scanned the text, describing arguments with customers and to fight with my boss. It described when I got home after work, how I waited for Maggie to get home as the hours crept by. When she did, we had a huge fight, and the text ended as we both stormed out. My dread grew with every word I read, but I couldn't stop. Why would a scene from my life be in an old book? What is this? I said thinly through my tight throat. Now my breaths were heavy and labored, and nausea bubbled in my stomach. I turned the page reluctantly, and there was a crude drawing, perhaps done in charcoal, of a giant owl with its wings stretched out, flying over a terrified running person. I jumped and almost dropped the book as a strong grip closed down on my shoulder. Foul breath washed over me as the man's voice whispered from over my shoulder. You have to finish it, but not here. He said, the buzzing stopped as the bulbs abruptly went out, and my phone was now the only source of light in the store. The darkness was heavy and inky around me, and I didn't feel the man's grip on me anymore. I swung the flashlight around in a panic to reveal shelves that were now mostly empty and covered in a thick layer of dust. The musty smell from before was replaced with the bitter stanch of rot and decay, and the dust in the air made me choke with each breath. I shone the light back on the book in my hands, and the pages were black and flaky as they fell from the limp brown cover. I dropped it as something scuttled over my foot, and I instinctively jumped backward, painfully into the shelf. I needed to find the door, but where it should have been, there was just an old dresser covered with animal skulls and burned out candles standing there like a grim altar. A loud, clumsy flapping noise, followed by scuttling and the clanging of fallen objects, broke the silence from somewhere in the room. With a whoosh, something fell through the air and collided with my chest, immediately winding me. My limp body was thrown sprawling into a bed of animal bones and grime, and my ears rang from the impact. In the darkness, giant bulbous white eyes loomed high above me, before lunging forward with the shriek that shook the ground beneath me and stunned me for a moment. I rolled to the side and shielded my head from the inevitable impact, and a great force struck the ground with the deep crunching that made me grit my teeth. The wings flapped, and whatever it was rose to the ceiling. I crawled on my knees and elbows, ignoring how the bones cut through my shirt to slash at my skin. I lifted the flashlight up to map out where I should go, then it turned off, plunging myself into total darkness. The hope was, they would not be able to see me in the dark, and I crawled forward toward one of the shelves. My fingertips grabbed the rotting wooden corner, and I pulled myself around it. Each breath burned my lungs as I used the shelf to pull myself to my feet, but it cracked with the weight of my hand, almost sending me to the ground again. From the other side of the shelf, the creature called out, sounding like 50 different bird calls combined into one piercing cacophony. The shelf shook as heavy footsteps pounded the ground, slightly muffled by everything coating the floor. Now I was in uncharted territory, as I dared not turn on my flashlight again. Using the shelf to guide me, I moved my way along it, ignoring every time my hand landed on something wet or damp, and doing my best not to trip on the trash around my feet. I strained my eyes against the darkness, and I saw a thin rectangle of brightness from up ahead, like light escaping from a doorway. The creature hadn't made any noise for a while, so while controlling my breath, I decided to turn on the flashlight. Turning it to the right showed that there was indeed a doorway there, a bit behind the counter the man had sat behind before. When I turned to the left, I still couldn't see any sign of the beast. It was impossible to relax though, and I almost preferred it when I could hear it. Lately I've been trying to wear things that feel great, look clean, and actually last. That's why I've been loving Quince. They use premium fabrics and make everyday basics feel luxurious without the huge markup. 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A gigantic feathered face covered in rotting scars and wounds with those big milky white eyes looked down on me. Something dark dropped from the beak that opened wide, spilling more of the vile liquid over my face where it burned slightly. I jumped to my feet and sprinted toward the door. The shriek followed me after another great thump and more flapping. Shelves were knocked over in jars smashed as it approached me, but I reached the door and wrenched it open, flying through it before slamming it behind me. I pressed my back against the door, and the deep breaths I took were sweeter than fresh mountain air. The burning on my face cooled as raindrops fell on me, and the cold metallic door was a welcome relief against my sweaty hands and back. I dropped the phone at my feet, and I shook uncontrollably as I bent to pick it up. It didn't take long for me to see I was in the alley, and I turned to the graffiti covered door. I didn't want to hear the creatures shriek ever again, but I pressed my ear against the door, listening for the slightest sound. It was completely silent on the other side, and as much as my hand wanted to disobey, I forced myself to open the door. It swung out with the grating metallic creak, and shining my phone inside showed me a small, unremarkable kitchen that stunk of old oil and rat poison. My poor brain did its best to process what had just happened, but I couldn't do it. The fear was still gripping me all over, and the little cuts and bruises I had from the scuffle still burned and pulsed, dolly as a reminder that it was no dream. My flashlight wobbled as I swung it around, but all I saw was an ordinary alleyway filled with overflowing trash cans and bugs, scuttling in the darkness. My heart jumped as I thought I saw the blue eyes and the darkness, but it was just the light reflecting on glass bottles. Back on the street, life went on as always. People were walking hunched through the rain, sirens blared, and silhouettes sat at their tables in the restaurant across the street. All I wanted was to get back home, so I turned and jogged toward my apartment block without looking back, but it was as if I could still smell the rotting odor and feel those eyes looking at me. Sometimes, I even thought I heard the screeching somewhere in the distance, and I would drop to my knees covering my head, much to the confusion of anyone near me. The rain fell harder as I reached my dingy apartment building, and I had to step over a man sleeping in front of the doorway to get inside. The lobby was dark, and a dripping sound came from somewhere in the shadows. My stomach contracted in fear, even though darkness hadn't scared me since I was a little kid. After clearing my throat, I forced myself forward and passed the empty reception desk toward the elevator. Everything was as I had seen it a million times, but something made me feel unwelcome. I coughed as I pressed the elevator button with a gummy click, and the grating, wrenching sound of the door's creaking open made me cringe. But the doors finally opened to reveal the comforting light within. The doors shut behind me after I pressed the button for my floor, and I leaned against the side of the elevator to catch my breath. I closed my eyes and rubbed my temples, wondering what I had just experienced and how I was going to explain it to Maggie. Suddenly, the elevator grinded to a stop with a pneumatic screech, and I cried out as the light went out and the floor shook beneath me. My breath threatened to cascade into hyperventilation, and it was a fight to keep it under control. All I could do was count to ten and breathe, no matter how much my fear turned to panicked claustrophobia. Something bashed the elevator from outside, as if a great Leviathan were striking the side of a vessel, and I put my hands against the walls as I yelled. There was silence, then a deep, bassy creaking before a fresh assault rocked the elevator from the other side. All I could do was fall to the floor, cover my face, and pray for it to be over soon. I braced for another attack, but finally the light came on, and the elevator started moving again. It lurched to a stop on my floor, and I scrambled out into the corridor as soon as the doors creaked open. My apartment was one of the last in the corridor, and there were patches of pure darkness lining the path between the few ceiling lights that cast dim orange cones of light. I'd never felt so drained as I moved quickly along the corridor, quickening my pace every time I was in the shadows. The door to my neighbor, Mrs. Camry's, apartment gaped open, and I instinctively pressed myself against the door opposite it. I looked into her dark apartment, as much as I feared that I might see something I didn't want to. Red light filtered through her rain-streaked window, and a silhouette sat in a chair besighted in the shadows. I swallowed back a gasp as it looked up at me with milky white eyes that pulsed in the dark. Something big flew past the window, briefly casting the room into darkness, and when I could see again, she was stumbling toward me with her arms outstretched. A guttural gag came from my throat, and I wrenched myself to the left and sprinted toward my apartment door. I glanced back as I reached my apartment. The only light still left on in the hallway was the one closest to my door, and something heavy thudded sporadically in the darkness with a wet squelching, getting closer each time. My hands shook as I pulled the keys from my pocket and fumbled at the handle. Luckily, I had unlocked this door so many times that my muscle memory kicked in, and I quickly got the key in and unlocked it. I was sure I would be in some new horrific place when the door opened, but instead, I was in my messy little living room, with a tiny kitchen area to my left, all illuminated by the red light of a sign outside coming through the window. I quickly closed and locked the door behind me, leaning back as I let out a huge sigh. Now that I was safe, I finally noticed just how much pain there was all over my body, and it felt as if I could lie down on the floor and pass out. After clumsily removing my shoes, I crept to the bedroom and slowly opened the door to find Maggie fast asleep in the bed. A rush of affection washed over me, but I closed the door quietly and remained outside the room. After changing into some fresh clothes and throwing the ones from earlier into the trash, I flopped down on the sofa, despite being too tall for it, and sank my head against the lumpy pillow. I'd had to use the hard, scratchy sofa many times over the last few weeks, but that night, it was the coziest bed I could ever imagine. Sometime later, I awoke with a gasp, unable to move my body. I was still in my living room, but the darkness draped over me, heavy like silky fabric rushing over my skin. Maggie had told me about sleep paralysis from her youth sometimes, and I'd always imagined the panic she described as an exaggeration, but I would never doubt it again. Everything in me begged to stand and run as fast as I could, but all I could do was lie there, unable to even control my breathing. I could only move my eyes, and I darted them up to the bedroom door as it slowly creaked open. My throat gurgled and stung as I tried to scream as a hulking shape forced itself through the door and then rose to its full height until its great head was against the ceiling. I'd locked my eyes on the creature as it sat, and heaved in mucousy breaths as its white eyes blinked slowly. I still couldn't move as a cold hand brushed against my face. I'd looked to the left as far as I could as someone tall walked around the sofa and stood over the side to lean over me. He bent his waist until his face was only a few inches away and his piercing blue eyes seared into my own like acid. Harsh whispers whipped at the insides of my skull, and he reached into his coat to pull out a rectangular object. Feathers fluttered from his coat as he pulled it out, and the same musty smell from the bookstore came back to me. He leaned down, and I couldn't even recoil from the foul rot on his breath as he got close to me, his eyes staring at me unblinking the whole time. With a slow gesture of his hand, he placed the same red book from before on my chest and pushed down hard enough on it to pull the breath from my lungs. His eyelids narrowed as he pushed harder, and for a terrible moment, I feared he wouldn't allow me to take another breath. My ribs creaked, and my throat gargled as I desperately tried to breathe. Before I really started to panic, his face contorted into a grotesque smile that I could only just make out with my blurry vision. And he lifted his hand from the book, allowing me to gasp. Mercifully, he stood back up again, and I was at least spared his foul breath, and the whispers softened slightly. You forgot your book. Finish it, and bring it back soon. He said, a thousand questions raged through my mind, but nothing came out of my mouth. He stepped back and toward the darkness of the kitchen, where he melted into the shadows. My eyes went back to the creature, and it hunched over and squeezed back into the bedroom. As soon as I couldn't see them anymore, I let out a sharp gasp as I finally had control of my body again and could breathe normally. I was still catching my breath as I ran to the bedroom door, only to see that Maggie was still sleeping in the bed. It was hard to slow my breathing down as I leaned down to pick up a huge brown feather from the floor. I barely got any sleep that night, and yet somehow, Maggie managed to sneak out without me noticing in the morning. The scraps of sleep I had were poisoned by dreams of the creature and the man with blue eyes, and every time I woke, it was in a sweaty terror. As much as I just wanted to ignore it, I lay the book down on the desk and took a deep breath before sitting to open it. The words on the page were neat and clear, despite how old and yellowed they were. I skimmed the part I had read before and turned to the picture drawn in charcoal. It was mostly the same, but an extra person had been added, a lanky figure looming behind the owl. I licked my dry lips as I turned to the next page. My eyes blinked rapidly as I read the text that followed, and then the book was warmed to the touch again. It followed on from the last passage, following the fight with Maggie. Travis ran out the door as Maggie bounded across the street. His rage burned as he chased after her, not seeing the car that sped toward him. It collided with his body. He was flung through the air to land in a bloody heap near a dark alleyway. He choked through crushed lungs, somehow knowing that nothing could save him. I threw the book aside as bile burned my throat, and I feared I would throw up. What was in the book wasn't real. It couldn't be. But I could picture it so clearly, not in the way you might do while reading a well-written book, but as if it actually happened to me. My jaw clenched as I reached over to the book and opened it again, but the pages after the accident were blank. For the first time since this ordeal had started, my fear turned to anger. Someone was trying to scare me, or convince me that I was crazy and wasn't going to sit by and take it. I pressed my hands together and put them against my forehead as I thought. The bookstore appeared to me, but it couldn't be real, as it had disappeared once I left the door. And yet, I hadn't imagined what I'd experienced. I had cuts and bruises to prove it. The only other explanation was that I saw what someone wanted me to see. They had come into my home, into the room Maggie slept in, and I knew I couldn't let it go. My fists dropped to the table and clenched. I would go back to the alley that night, despite the fear that tore at me, and stop whatever was happening to me. The night was cool, and the fear started to replace my anger as I walked down the street with the book tucked under my arm. Maggie had come home before I left, and she had the spaced out look in her eyes she had so many times these days. Before I left, I had stopped at the door and looked back at her. My mouth opened as if I wanted to say something, but instead, I just closed the door and left her there. My whole body trembled as I stood before the empty maw of the alleyway. A car sped down the street, and the blaring horn was deafening as it went through a puddle and sprayed me with dirty water. The noise assaulted me and almost brought me to my knees as I briefly relived the vision of the car hitting me. When I looked up again, I jumped back as the entrance to the bookstore was there again, with the same dusty displays behind the windows. I savored the cold sting of the knife I had hidden in the right sleeve of my coat. I braced myself and marched toward the door. The bell dinged as I opened it, and I was caught off guard by what I saw inside. First, the bookstore was a bit different. It was still filled with books on shelves, but everything was dustier and grayer. There was also a woman standing in the aisle directly ahead of me. She was completely soaked, with her blonde hair hanging in clumps over her pale face as she held a book in her hands. She stared at it with wide eyes framed by dark circles, and her mouth moved without making any sounds. I took a few steps closer and swallowed it nothing. Excuse me, I said, my voice sounding far away even to myself. She turned her head slowly and blinked at me as her chapped lips moved silently. It's right here. I drowned in that lake. Her words were thin and wispy, and I wasn't sure how to respond. But... She whispered as she brushed her fingertips against her pale cheek. I can feel... I can't have... But I remember it. Her hand dropped limply to her side, and I took a step closer. As soon as I did, she braced her body and looked at me in terror. You did this to me! She said as she stepped back, the book dropping from her hands as she turned to run from the door behind the counter. Wait, stop! I called out as I chased after her, but she flung the door open, went through, and it shut behind her. I stopped, and my chest slumped as I had the feeling I wouldn't be seeing her again. It was all true, a flat voice said from behind me. Even though it frightened me, I somehow managed to spin around and drop the knife from my sleeve. It clattered to the carpeted floor, but I had it back in my hands in a second and rose to brandish it at the man who stood between me and the door. He looked different though. His skin was pulled tight over his skull, and his eyes sank into two black pits. His long scabby hand was braced on the door frame, and his chest shook as it seemed he struggled to stand. He crunted, and for a moment, the bookstore was replaced with the dirty dusty room I'd seen the previous night. But then it was back to the bookstore. The knife shook in my hand, but it was clear to me that he was controlling what I was seeing. From behind me, a woman's voice shrieked, followed by the whistling cry I'd heard from the creature, and the door opened to let out a wave of water that cascaded into the shop and gathered around my feet. When I looked back at the man, he was standing straighter, and he looked healthier once again. The bookstore also looked cleaner now, more like it had when I first arrived. What's going on here? I asked, wishing that my voice wasn't poisoned by terror. The longer I stood there, the more I had to fight to remember what was real and existed outside this room. It showed you the truth. He said as he took a step closer. You need to accept it and go through the door, as she did. I instinctively took a step back, clutching the book to my chest as I held the knife out. I desperately tried to work out what he was really saying. The book had described a horrible accident after a fight with Maggie, and the memory was burned vividly into my mind. I lowered the knife and took a step backward. The crash, I said. I remember it now. Yes, very good. The man said, walking forward as he licked his lips. Just go through the door. It will be over before you know it. I turned around slowly, making my way to the door. Everything I saw in the store was shimmering, as if it were a mirage about to disappear. There was no way to be sure what I was planning would work, but I had to try. The woman had been told she had drowned, and she believed it when she opened the door. I put my hand on the brass door knob and steeled myself as I turned it. Inside was a monochrome version of my apartment, with deep shadows in every corner, and covering the ceiling in a way that made it stretch out into eternity. The memories flashed through my mind, and my body already ached, just thinking about the car careening into me. I spun around and opened the book, making the man freeze in his steps, as dark drool dripped from his lips to the floor. His eyes went wide with anger as I grasped the pages with text on them. I held up the knife and sliced them from the book. As soon as the knife slid through, my head exploded with searing pain, as if it had cut my forehead, and I couldn't even hear the screaming that was burning my throat. I dropped to my knees, and it was as though someone had torn something from my soul. No! The man screamed, and his voice echoed from within my own head. The illusion broke, and the store plunged into darkness with the smell of rot again. You don't know what you're doing! He yelled. It was a struggle to stay conscious as I groped for the book in the darkness, and crawled forward as my head pulsed with agony. Something screeched and flapped over me, and there was a crunch of wood, as it landed on one of the bookshelves. No! He'll go in! Just give me more time! He'll go in! The man's voice had always been so calm, but now it was strained and cracked from pure terror and desperation. The creature howled so loudly that I was stunned for a moment and fell to the ground, unable to move. No! No! He screamed. I sat up as the man's voice exploded, and shrill agony as something collided hard and crunched grotesquely nearby. All I could do was crawl through the bones and dust with the book in my hand, trying to fight through the pain and the terror. Frantic ripping and something wet landing on the ground made me grit my teeth. The screams died out, but I kept crawling until I reached the wall. With a deep breath, I put my back against it and held the book to my chest while clenching my eyes shut. I exhaled and thought as hard as I could. Memories as vivid as the moment they happened flashed through my mind, meeting Maggie at that work function, the first time we kissed. When we fought about my gambling debt, the blue eyes and the darkness getting closer. I shook that last thought away as something stomped in the other aisle with a low, guttural growl. My whole body trembled and burned with pain all over. I tried to focus on the positive memories, but something told me that it all needed to be there. Every fight, every time I made her smile, the medical scare, the time I saw those messages on her phone. I pictured it all and the book grew hot to touch, so much so that I could feel it through my coat. Despite how it hurt, I held it closer. My memories ran right up to me sitting in the kitchen, the same way that preceded the crash that I'd been shown in the book. Ignoring the lumbering steps getting closer, I imagined what would happen next. I never would have thought it possible to have two memories simultaneously, especially of things that hadn't happened. But I caught flashes of two scenarios. One with me telling her how sorry I was and that I loved her and would do anything to make it work. The other was that I wasn't happy and we knew what we had to do. The creature's claws scratched the ground near me as it sniffed for me and the book went cold as the vivid images went out. Which one should I focus on? Relying on my memory of the shelves, I crawled around the one closest to me and down the aisle with the scratching and sniffing of the beast separated from me only by some flimsy wooden shelves. There was a little light in the distance where the door was and I crawled as quickly as I could toward it. It screeched again and the air around me moved in a whirlwind as it took flight. But I rose to my feet, sprinted forward and dove through the door as the screen approached me. I lay for who knows how long on damp carpet, breathing heavily and almost overcome with pain. When I finally sat up, I was in the corridor leading to my apartment. I shook as I stood on my aching legs and my hands were covered in cuts as I somehow managed to limp over and unlock the door. The apartment was dark and quiet and it was a relief to sit down on the chair opposite the front door. Sometime soon, Maggie would come through that door and one of the scenarios I imagined would play out, I was sure of it. It should have caused me some fear, but I was calm as the doorknob turned and she came in immediately gasping as she saw how I looked. What? What happened? She asked breathlessly. I smiled despite it all and let out a breath. I need to tell you something, I said. I'm a fan. I'll see you in the next one.